Stop Waiting
by ILoveRomione1
Summary: Ginny waits for him every night, thinking no one knows. But Neville can see right through her. That's just how it was with them, simple, and never holding back. [Friendship: Ginny/Neville. Implied Harry/Ginny and Neville/Luna. One-Shot. Rated K.]


Ginny absently turned the page to her potions textbook, pulling her legs further underneath her. She was sitting on one of the soft sofas near the fire in the common room. Her eyes drooped slightly, but she wasn't ready to go to bed just yet.

In all honesty, she was waiting for him. It seemed stupid, even to her, but she wanted to catch a glimpse of him before going up to bed, if only to make sure he was okay that night. She also really needed the extra reading time. Or at least that was the story she was telling herself.

Her eyes darted to the portrait as it swung open, and she saw Neville step in. With a sigh, she slumped further down, bringing her eyes back to the ingredient she was currently having trouble memorizing. It only lasted for a few seconds, however, as Neville sat beside her.

She could feel his eyes on her the whole time, so she finally closed the book and looked at him. "Yes?"

His eyes scanned her for a few more seconds, thoughtful. Then his mouth twitched in an amused smile, "You're waiting again, aren't you?"

She lifted one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows in what she hoped was a cool manner. "And what exactly am I waiting for, Nev?"

He took the potions book from her lap and opening it, smiling as he pretended to read. "Not what, who," he said, not looking up.

She rolled her eyes at him, puling the book from his hands and stuffing it in her bag next to her. She looked back at him, "Humor me."

"Oh, just a certain black haired, spectacled, _Harry Potter_ …." He laughed at her annoyed expression. "Admit it, you're waiting for him. You want to make sure he's not dead, or injured for the night-"

"Bit harsh, Neville," she winced.

"Sorry," he shrugged, sympathetically. "But it's true. Don't think I haven't seen you. I've watched you sit here for hours until he comes back from wherever it is he wanders off to, and only then will you go up to the dorms… And I get it."

Ginny, who had been fumbling with the hem of her sweater, looked up at the change in tone. He wasn't looking at her anymore, he had turned to look at the window with a sad expression. Almost nostalgic. "You're worried about her too?"

He looked at her, "Everyone's worried these days, right?" He sighed, "Yes, I mean… she's so naïve and unique and she sees the best in people and I just… I'm worried she'll wonder off into the woods one night and she'll look up to find this strange man looking at her and… she won't come back like she always does."

"She knows how to take of herself."

"No, I know," he said quickly, "but they're a bad bunch, Gin. She's smart, and witty, and she can defend herself, but so can they, and they are ruthless."

Ginny didn't answer for a while, and instead reached for his hand. They sat in comfortable silence until she broke it, "You should tell her."

He laughed, laced with amusement and slight bitterness. "I can't tell her, I mean she's… it's Luna," he said, as if that explained everything.

She let go of his hand to slap his arm. "That has nothing to do with anything! Bloody hell, Neville, get this into your head: she is not better than you, nor are you better than her. It's just unfair… how you think of yourself sometimes."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I could say the same thing about you, Gin. You stay here, all night if necessary, and yet you barely even talk to Harry. He may be the chosen one or whatever it is they're calling him nowadays, but you are _Ginny Weasly_."

She smiled fondly at him, "That's exactly it, I'm Ginny Weasly. I'm Ron's little sister, and how am I supposed to make him see me as anything else if he's too busy playing with Voldemort," she bit out. She sounded bitter, and she knew it, but she couldn't help it. Harry was always going on about how Draco was doing something or the other, and she had no idea how to compete with that. The only moment she ever felt worthy of his attention was at Quidditch, but even then, she had no idea if he felt the same way she did.

Neville gave her a sideways glance, "You're more than just his best friend's sister. Your smart, and pretty, and funny…"

She laughed as he turned a slight shade of pink. He wasn't good at compliments, as shy as he was. "So are you. You should at least try to talk to Luna, Nev. And not," she added, knowing he would tell her he did in fact talk to her, "like you always do. Go out of your way to say hi, sit down with her at lunch, be creative."

"I guess I could try that."

"Oh, you _guess_?"

"Yes," he laughed, "I guess I could maybe, probably—"

He ducked as her pencil came flying at his head, laughing loudly. "You better, Longbottom." She smiled, turning to the cackling fire as confortable silence stretched over them once again. It was always like that between them. Joking, confortable, it was them. They never held back, it was their thing. He had confided every last detail about his mother and father to her, and she had told him about Tom Riddle, and they had gone from their, never judging each other. She knew he could trust him, unlike her so-called friends. Girls were like that, she always told herself: jealous and selfish amongst each other, most of them, anyways.

He had known, even when she wasn't so sure herself, that Harry was something more to her. They didn't speak about it a whole lot, but he had once mentioned that the way she looked at him sometimes… he knew it was different. And she saw how much his understanding had changed since Luna innocently walked into his life. He understood now, how she felt. He understood what it was like to want to walk up to someone and just shake them and yell 'Look at me!'

Maybe it was that understanding, or maybe it was the fact that she really wished she could say the words out loud, but she broke the silence. "I really, really like him, Nev."

He remained silent for a few seconds, not looking at her. When he answered, it was softly, curious. "Do you…. I mean, are you in love with him?"

Her heart began beating faster, for some reason unknown to her. _Maybe…_ "I'm not sure," she said shakily. She felt a knot in her throat, as if she was going to cry, but she didn't understand why. Neville scooted closer, throwing an arm around her so she could lay her head on his shoulder. "I think I might. Is that crazy?"

"No," he said immediately. "I mean, it's partly insane, but normal, as far as love goes, if that makes any sense."

"It doesn't."

"That's okay," he answered, and she smiled.

She smiled because he always made her feel better. She smiled because for that second, she wasn't worried anymore. She smiled because he would talk to Luna, and because she would talk to Harry. And because once again, she was assured, she was Ginny _bloody_ Weasly.

That was just how it was with them, simple, and never holding back. And she was so happy for that little bit of normality, especially coming from one Neville Longbottom.

* * *

 _Hello, Nicole here. I'm back? not sure. Well I'm sure you don't really care anyway, so instead: I hope you enjoyed this. I just really adore Ginny and Neville's friendship. Feel free to review, feedback always helps._

 _xx_


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